


come on, call my name

by captainangua



Series: DeanCas oneshots [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Dean Winchester-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Gen, Invisibility, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sam Winchester is a Little Shit, Season/Series 14 Speculation, Temporary Amnesia, the ghosts of season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:05:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainangua/pseuds/captainangua
Summary: “Sam?”Sam walked in, looking oddly puzzled with a full bag of groceries which he set down on the table by Dean. On Dean’s hands, to be more precise about it.“Ha. Very funny. I’m disappearing, and you’re hilarious.”Sam wandered across the room, continuing to give no inclination that he could hear him, that he was even aware anyone else was there.*In which Dean worries that he's fading from existence, Sam isn't able to be very helpful, and Cas is forced to undo something he did a long time ago.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> recent rewatch and a holiday with slow wifi brought on some actual fic writing wow
> 
> other half may get typed up tomorrow?? maybe??

 

It started at the diner they’d found for breakfast. It wasn’t a big town, so there were about three choices for breakfast in total, and they’d managed to find what had to be the very greasiest of those, because of course they had, Sam thought, defeated, as he settled for ordering pancakes along with his coffee.

Dean grinned at him, with that reflexive triumph he wore whenever he saw Sam eating “real food”. But the smile faded as quickly as it had appeared, as the cheerful woman serving them walked away without taking Dean’s order.

“Uh,” Dean said. “Excuse me?”

Sam laughed, watching the woman’s back as she continued not to turn back. “Maybe she just doesn’t like you.”

“We just got here, Sam. What could I have possibly done already to make her mad?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe it’s something about your face…”

Dean rolled his eyes, but patted at his face self-consciously. “But I’m _hungry_.”

The woman returned with Sam’s coffee a few moments late, and Sam, unable to keep himself from laughing at least a little, dutifully ordered Dean’s breakfast burrito and coffee. Though she looked at Sam like she thought he was going mad, she brought over another cup, and poured coffee in that too, though she continued to ignore Dean and the incredulous expressions he was coming up with.  When she arrived with both the pancakes and the burrito, it took a further nudging from Sam before she brought extra cutlery, not that its absence would usually bother Dean.

“Dude, are you sure you didn’t like wander through here as a demon and like… kill this woman’s dog?” Sam asked as they left. “Like, I’ve seen silent treatments before, but that was like…”

“Like I wasn’t even there,” Dean said, glaring at the ground. “I know. It was getting fucking freaky. But no, I don’t think I ever killed anyone’s dog. Or came through this town before. I mean look around, Sam, these werewolf attacks are the most interesting thing that ever happened to this place. It’s a sad, tiny little town.”

“That wouldn’t serve you breakfast.”

“That wouldn’t serve me breakfast.”

The rest of the day they spent getting to the possible identity and whereabouts of the aforesaid most interesting thing to happen to the town, and it went almost as normal. Almost, because the fifth witness they had the chance to speak to had a moody teenager with an apparent attitude problem. As they were talking to the mother, her son came out behind her as they stood on the top step, and nudged Dean’s shoulder so hard that Sam was worried it might dislodge, this being the shoulder he’d been forced to set back in place after a recent tousle Dean had gone through with a demon the week before.

The mother’s face, previously only showing polite sympathy for the tragedy which had befallen her neighbour, was suddenly beetroot red. “That is the final straw, young man. You are going to come back up these steps and you will apologise to the federal agent.”

“I didn’t _touch_ him,” the teenager insisted, turning back and glaring at Sam. “Jeez, just cause it’s the government – I mean, should I have curtseyed, Mom? Do you want me to curtsey?”

As he stalked off, hands returned furiously into his pockets, his mother turned to Dean, again all gentle smiles. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, agents. I’m afraid he’s going through a… a difficult age. Do either of you have any of your own?”

Sam thought he saw something odd flash over Deans’ face before he eventually came out with a “Uh… no. But, yeah. Terrible teens. We hear you there, Ma’am.”

And then again, things were just about normal for the remainder of the night. They knew who the werewolf was (poor Mr McBride up the street from the moody teen wasn’t a vegetarian anymore) and they had a pretty good idea where he was going to be that night, the last of the full moon.

At first they arrange to have Dean out playing bait, it being definitely his turn this time, and Sam stalked the perimeter, waiting. But after hours of only waiting, and daylight rapidly drawing closer, they switched tactics. Tracking him through the dark of the woods wasn’t ideal, and it wasn’t long until Sam was cornered. But Mr McBride was so fixated on getting at Sam’s heart he didn’t even seem to notice Dean walking around and shooting him in the head.

“Nice shot,” Sam said, breathing heavily as his brother helped him back to his feet.

“No it wasn’t. It was a stupid shot – or it should have been. He saw me coming, I know he did. He should have at least tried to stop me.”

Sam shrugged, feeling too tired to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when they still had a long night of dealing with a heavy body ahead of them. “He was a new turn. Could be this wasn’t how he wanted his life turning out. Maybe he… y’know, let you.”

Pursing his lips together, Dean shook his head, staring down at the corpse at their feet. “No, not like he saw me and didn’t care – like he saw me but he didn’t see me. Sammy, he looked right at me.” Dean pinched himself on the arm. “I’m not disappearing or anything, am I?”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t scoff like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s hard to believe. Because whenever you do that something weirder and worse happens.”

Sam sighed. “Could we just burn this guy and get back and shower?”

“Yeah, yeah. But I’m calling Cas.”

“He and Jack are doing their -”

“I know, I know, angel family bonding time or whatever. But he said to ring if anything important came up and if I’m disappearing I would like the head’s up on it.”

“Or you just want an excuse to call him.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Sam said moodily as he bent down towards the corpse. “Ok. You take the feet.”

*

Dean woke to a note from Sam that he’d left for the minimart to get them food for the road. Dean scowled when he saw it.

It was… nice, he supposed, actually getting a full night’s rest, but it made him nervous that he’d stopped waking up at the least disturbance. Sam had assumedly been moving around for a while before he’d left, and Dean hadn’t twitched. He wasn’t sure what the take away from that should be.

The text from Cas saying that he’d left Jack with Mary and Bobby and should be with Dean soon had also not woken him up, but it did at least get him smiling. Cas had put a few loveheart emojis at the end of the message. The dork. Probably didn’t even know what they meant.

Well. He had to, but… but it was easier to think that he didn’t. Easier to think that Cas didn’t get what a lot of things meant, but Dean did know that Cas wasn’t an idiot. And maybe Sam was right. Maybe it was nice to test things and find out that, however stupid sounding the issue was, that Cas would always be there for him when he called, would care enough to listen.

Which was dumb, and sappy, and… and that was Sam home.

“Did you remember the toothpaste?” Dean yelled, not looking up from the table where he was sitting at with his coffee. When he got no response, Dean tried not to think into it.

“Sam?”

Sam walked in, looking oddly puzzled with a full bag of groceries which he set down on the table by Dean. On Dean’s hands, to be more precise about it.

“Ha. Very funny. I’m disappearing, and you’re hilarious.”

Sam wandered across the room, continuing to give no inclination that he could hear him, that he was even aware anyone else was there.

Slowly, Dean got to his feet. “Ok, it’s not funny anymore.”

Sam moved to put the TV on, still ignoring him.

“Sam Winchester… still can’t change a car wheel right. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. One time Sam Winchester bought himself a sex doll online and all he used it for was to talk about his feelings to. Sam Winchester -” Still wasn’t turning around, and Dean was running out of lines.

Dean was still trying to figure out what the next logical step forward was when Sam finished his morning banana and reached for the car keys.

“Oh no you don’t,” Dean growled, and ran to lock the door, which he proceeded to bar with his whole body.

Sam looked over at the door as the lock clocked, perturbed but still not seeing Dean. Moving slower now, Sam rummaged in his bag and pulled out the EMF meter buried inside.

“Oh, so I’m dead now? Perfect.”

As Sam studied his silent device, Dean found himself a notebook and moments later waved it in front of his brother’s face. It said, as Dean was still loudly repeating by his ear, “Sam, it’s ME.”

Sam gave no indication there was anything to look at but the unresponsive detector.

“SAM,” Dean bellowed in his brother’s ear, as he dropped the notebook. Sam’s hair even brushed away from his shoulders, but still he didn’t turn. He did eventually gasp though.

“Right, so as long as I’m not actually holding it you can see it fine?” Dean asked as he watched Sam pick up the notebook, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

A few moments later, and Sam still hadn’t seen him, and tried walking to the door again.

“Nope,” Dean announced, and tripped him up.

Sitting up, Sam continued to glare at the room warily and took his phone from his pocket.

“Finally,” Dean said. “Fuck, you haven’t even asked where I am. Call me. You’re not gonna find my phone, since it’s on me, but hey at least -”

Sam hadn’t called him.

“Cas, hey, it’s Sam. I was just about to leave town, but…” he looked around the room, really not seeing Dean’s clothes, Dean’s things. “Something’s weird. I don’t think it’s a ghost, but there’s definitely something in this motel room with me and uh… be nice to get some back up on this one, man.”

As Sam reeled off the address to Cas’s answering machine, Dean stared at him, feeling like someone had just punched him in the gut.  “Sammy – do you remember me at all? You wouldn’t be hunting on your own – c’mon man, you gotta remember something here.”

But as Sam methodically attempted escape from every window in the room, and the door again, it would seem that he really didn’t remember, or see anything.

By the time Cas arrived three hours later, Sam was scowling as continued to do his best to ignore the various sugar sachets Dean was launching at his head.

To Dean’s infinite relief, when Cas took in the bullet holes in the wall from Sam’s attempt at catching his invisible companion, he addressed both of them.

“What’s going on here?”

“You can see me?” Dean asked, feeling like he might cry.

At the same time, Sam said dully, “Can you see it?”

Cas looked between them both. “Of course I can see you, Dean.”

Sam jumped out of his seat, alarmed, looking at Dean’s shoulder. “Who’s Dean? Cas, what the hell is going on?”

Despite expecting that exact reaction, Dean felt his stomach sink.

“Look, yesterday some of the people around here didn’t seem to notice I was there, like I didn’t exist or something. Then this morning, Sam comes back in from shopping and it’s like he thinks he came here along, and he can’t see me, or hear me.”

Cas’s eyes slid back to Sam, who was now standing, gun still clutched in his hands.

“Cas,” he pressed, like someone had just told him he was being stalked by an invisible clown.

Cas sighed. “Ok, Sam. What…” He rubbed at his forehead, and because Sam couldn’t see him, Dean smiled fondly. Cas was just getting so much more human in his gestures.

“What do you remember about how we met?”

“What?”

“Just… tell me.”

“Well you… you helped us stop the apocalypse. You saved me from the Cage.”

“And who was this us.”

“Well… me and Bobby, mostly.”

Cas looked over at Dean as though hoping for direction. Dean only shrugged.

“Cas, are you ok?”

“Yes. Mostly. But you’re not.” He turned back to Dean. “Someone’s messed with his mind.”

“Well, I get that, genius, but who? And why?”

Cas sighed again, like this really wasn’t how he’d planned on spending his afternoon. “Sam, do I have permission to… read your mind? It might help if I had a clearer picture of what you did this morning.”

“Cas, anything, you know that. But… why? What changed this morning?”

“Yesterday, you arrived in this town with your brother, Dean. Someone has caused you to forget him, and believe that he does not exist, to the point that he is sitting in this room right now and you cannot see him.”

“Cas… Adam’s been dead a long time. I don’t have another brother – but if I did, I would hope he wouldn’t punch me in the face just for trying to leave the room.”

Cas turned back to Dean. “You punched him in the face?”

“I wasn’t aiming for the face,” Dean grumbled, lying.

“Sam,” Cas started again, ignoring this. “You’re an intelligent man. When thinking back to my appearance in your life, there must be a few blanks you’re drawing – some sort of amended story that doesn’t sit right. I first met you because I rescued Dean from Hell, a long time before I got you out. You were not raised an only child. The reason you first left Stanford was because Dean was there to drive away with. Now, if you’d let me just -”

Sam gave another twitchy glance in Dean’s direction. “I trust you, Cas, you know that.”

Leaving one eye open and fixed on where Dean had been standing, Sam made an attempt at closing his eyes and looking relaxed.

“God, Sammy, he’s not about to kiss you,” Dean muttered, which Sam obviously couldn’t hear, but drew a strange expression from Cas, that for no good reason made Dean want to blush like a teenager.

Cas walked over and put his hands out, two fingers on Sam’s forehead in what was such a familiar sight, a calming sight even. Cas was here now, and he was Handling things.

Dean wondered how his brother felt about the angel, now that he couldn’t remember having Dean around. Maybe he felt like they were more distant – but then he’d still called on him quickly, and over anyone else, hadn’t he? Maybe he felt like they were closer.

Either way, it was the last thing Dean should be spending time thinking about.

Abruptly, like he’d been burned, Cas pulled away.

“What is it?” they asked together.

“A witch?”

“Demons?”

“Neither,” Cas said, turning away from them both. “It was an angel.”

“Which one?” They said, together again, which was getting annoying.

With effort, Dean managed to stop himself from adding a “Who’s left?”

Cas looked back and grimaced. “Well, me.”

“You.”

“You?”

“Sam, I don’t suppose you remember anything about a woman,” his eyes flashed to Dean, “named Lisa Braedon?”

Dean sank back into his seat. This was rapidly becoming… a day.

*


	2. Chapter 2

Dean insisted on driving. He was jittery, he was upset, Sam didn’t even know who he was, and he was about to have to see Lisa again: if he’d ever needed to force himself into calming down, it was today.

“Let me guess,” Sam said, as he clambered into the back seat. “He’s the older brother.”

Cas gave one of his almost-smiles. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, so far, he seems like a moody control-freak who’s acting like this is his car.”

“Tell him he’s a bitch.”

“You guys have got to see this looks creepy, right?” Sam whined as Dean started the engine. “Because I’m just stuck here watching an invisible man drive the car here – no? Ok.”

“Tell him I will punch him in the face again the moment we quit driving if he keeps on like this.”

“And speaking of creepy,” Sam continued, since Cas still hadn’t passed on any of Dean’s messages, “so we got you to make them forget Dean existed? Isn’t that very creepy?”

“Shady,” Dean said, staring at the road. “That’s what he called it at the time.” Cas looked back at him and again, seemed so human it looked like he really didn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Crowley had come after them, and they got hurt. It was… my fault more than anything.”

“Don’t go there,” Dean growled.

“But that doesn’t make any sense. Even if they didn’t remember who Dean was, other people would. They’d still be targets. He might have saved them the trauma of those few hours but this wasn’t rescuing them.”

Dean felt newly stung. The sooner this day was over…

“Well, that’s what I realised too,” Cas admitted. “That’s why we are where we are now, I realised that what Dean had asked for from me wasn’t a lasting safeguard, so I went back.”

Dean bit down on his lip. He didn’t want to hear this; needed to hear this.

“I was a lot stronger than I am now. I… I made sure that anyone coming after them, along with any family and friends wouldn’t remember Dean either, wouldn’t perceive him in photographs or videos, not after seeing or speaking to them. That way no one would ever again be able to use them as leverage.”

“And you think I bumped into one of them in the store this morning and now I can’t remember how I travelled here, or who with.”

“I think my own trick worked a little too well. Which is why, to be safest, I’m cutting this off from the source.”

“Do you need to make them remember?” Dean asked hoarsely.

Cas nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, but yes, I think so. It’s one of the only ways I can be sure. What I did before, it was reckless, and as Sam says, wrong. It wasn’t right what we did to them.”

“But it’s not fair to them now,” Dean insisted, to only a persistent stare from Cas, that forced Dean into watching the road properly for once.

Behind them, Sam shuffled in his seat, and leaned forwards. “So… what’s going on with you two?”

“What?”

“What do you mean?” Cas asked, sounding much more measured but _oh,_ strained as well.

For the first time that day, Dean was grateful his brother couldn’t see his face.

“Well, like… call me crazy, but you don’t seem to look at him or talk to him the same way you do with me. Are you guys like…”

“Don’t say it,” Dean muttered.

“…An item?”

“Oh my God.”

Cas looked carefully over at Dean, and when Dean refused to meet his stare he shrugged in Sam’s direction. “I have known him a little longer. And, uh…”

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“…he did make me a mixtape.”

“He did _what_?”

“Cas, _stop talking_.”

Sam blinked innocently. For someone who didn’t remember being a little brother the motions seemed to be coming back to him easily enough. “Does. Does he do that for many people?”

“This is the worst car ride of my life,” Dean told his rear-view mirror.

*

Cas watched Dean, feeling strangely helpless, for the entire rest of the drive. Because this had to be a worst nightmare of Dean’s. Re-confronting Lisa, having his own brother stop remembering who he was… and Cas had done this to him, had put him in this situation.

Oh, inadvertently. By mistake. And always, _of course_ , with those best intentions driving him. But none of those inventions had mattered in the end, and it had taken some time, but Dean had very much still ended up hurt.

Hurt, and afraid, Cas noted as they waited, leaning on the car, outside of Lisa’s house. Cas doubted Dean would be displaying so many obvious tells of nervousness if Sam was able to see him, and Cas was feeling almost honoured that he’d been deemed safe enough to see Dean at his most vulnerable, his most agitated.

“How do you think that’s going?” Dean asked, with a head tilt toward the house.

“He just needs to find out if Ben’s there with her. If I can get to them both at the same time -”

“This should go easier, I know.” Dean was pacing now, every part of him seemingly unable to keep still. “But that’s got to be weird, right? Neither of them really remembering who the other one is? I mean this is just -”

“I’m sorry you’re being put through this, Dean.”

“What?” For a split-second, Dean stopped moving. “This is just karma, or poetic license. Something. Don’t work yourself up about it Cas, it was bound to come back up.”

“Well, I’m sorry you need to see her again like this then. I know that she -” Cas tried again. “I know that she and Ben, that they were your family, that Lisa was -”

“Yeah?”

“Dean, I know what she meant to you. She was the love of your life. And you lost her because of me.”

Dean went quiet, but Cas could feel the chaotic swirl of his thoughts, and a longing Cas wasn’t sure he knew how to place laced through it all.

“You know,” Cas said, after a long moment of listening to Dean’s silence, “things are different now. You have the bunker. Somewhere that’s mostly safe. There’s no reason you couldn’t -”

“Couldn’t start back up what we had?” Dean choked out a strange laugh. “Even if they did forgive me for all this… I’d just turn back into a prison warden all over again. Not exactly much that’s easy to love, much less live with.”

“I wouldn’t say so.”

Sam walked out of the house then before Dean could say anything in reply. Though he was unable to perceive they were staring at each other, Cas assumed that by now he was able to guess it. He gestured for them both to join him inside.

When Cas heard Dean give a long, ragged breath out, he took his hand. And it might have been only because Sam couldn’t seem him, but Dean let him, and gripped on tight, and wordlessly they walked into the house like that.

Cas had spent a lot of time staring at the house Dean had first lived in with Lisa, and this wasn’t so unlike it. The pictures had changed, of course. There were still photos of the grinning boy Ben had been adorning the walls, but now they were outnumbered by images of the lanky youth he had grown into/

He looked very, very like Dean, and Cas wondered if his friend could see it, if he looked to see it.

There were also numerous photos of Lisa and another woman. Cas wondered at that. She’d had a sister, he remembered. Perhaps that was her.

They followed Sam into the dining area where Lisa was sitting, a mug of tea in her hands and a patient smile on her face. Yes, a patient smile. Dean would have needed that.

It struck Cas very suddenly that he had never actually heard her speak before when she looked right at Dean and said, “Hey. Been a long time, Dean.”

She had aged, because of course she had. But she looked good, looked well, and Cas heard the catch in Dean’s throat as he managed a “Hey, Lis.”

It would perhaps have been kinder to let them get through their preliminary introductions first. But Cas didn’t have that sort of patience. Or, at least he didn’t today. “You remember. You can see him.”

“And you’re the angel, I’m guessing.” Another of those smiles followed her statement, though this one seemed tighter. “We started to remember not long after it happened, honestly. It wasn’t… pleasant, it wasn’t nice, but I was glad we did. Filled in a lot of weird blanks, but it was still strange, because no one close to us remembered who we were talking about. So, we quit talking about it. Sam says you might have some sort of explanation for that.”

“You -” Dean started. “You never said anything.”

“Well, I had to guess that with the stunt you pulled when you left that you didn’t want me to say anything.”

“What I did… It was selfish,” Dean managed.”

“It was cowardly,” she corrected him.

“Yes. I thought you were going to die. I couldn’t watch that happen again.”

Cas looked over at where Sam seemed to be doing his best to disappear into the back all.

“Lisa,” Cas said, “I’m sure Sam told you. But we need to reverse the other part of the spell. To do that I’d – I’d need to have a hand on you. Would that be -”

“Of course.” She stood up, flattening down her dress and walked over to give Cas her hand. She wouldn’t look away as he took hold of it, even when the space between their fingers began to glow, almost as though she were sizing him up.

Prying himself from the wall, Sam blinked.

Dean outstretched his arms, avoiding Lisa’s gaze. “See me now?”

A little petulant, Sam rubbed at his nose. “Dude. You punched way too hard.”

“Baby. You _shot_ at me.” Then he turned back to Lisa, as though speaking with Sam had bolstered his courage. There was pain in his eyes, but not exactly the longing Cas had expected to see.

“Apologies aren’t good enough, I know that.”

Lisa shook her head – again, patient, and a little sad, but somehow… peaceful. “And I don’t need to hear any. I forgave you a long time ago, Dean. Now please don’t go undoing that by saying something horrible about yourself.”

Dean didn’t seem to know what to say now that she’d effectively shut down wherever it was he’d been planning on taking the conversation. “Alright then,” was what he eventually came out with, coaxing a real and much wider smile from Lisa.

“Now… Look, guys, I know you probably want a clean sweep on all this – cut it off at the source and all that, from what Sam was saying – but if you could leave Ben alone for now? I’d appreciate that.”

“Uh -” Sam started, as Dean cut him off.

“Of course. Anything.”

Dean was eager to be helpful to her, and more eager still, Cas was sure, to continue avoiding the boy who looked so like him.

“It’s just, he’s not long started college, y’know? But he’ll be home for Thanksgiving – you guys’d be welcome to pop by.” Her eyes rested almost impishly on Cas before she grinned. “You could meet the wife.”

Dean seemed to need a few moments to recover from that. “The – the _wife_?”

She laughed. It was a thoroughly pleasant sound, and it was easier to think that now that Cas knew she was married. Which was ridiculous, but there it was. The pettiness of humanity had a habit of affecting him all the more when it concerned Dean.

*

Sam left them alone in the car as he wandered into the shop, shopping for three this time and still nursing a ringing head. Dean was relieved his brother knew who he was again, but he was happy he had a chance to be alone with Cas. He only had some idea of what he wanted to say to the angel, but he was sure he didn’t want an audience for it.

Cas seemed to be aware Dean had something to say and had remained quiet, waiting.

“Look, about Lisa,” Dean said eventually.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “It was my fault that anything was allowed to touch them in the first place.”

“That’s, that’s not what I’m trying to -”

“You seemed so happy.”

“What?”

Cas’s eyes seemed to weigh more than his whole face for a moment. “I – you wondered why I didn’t tell you about Sam being alive, why I didn’t seek your advice about Raphael, about Crowley.”

“…well, yeah,” Dean said, who hadn’t wondered anything like that for a very long time, but now wanted to hear what Cas had to say.

“I did come to see you,” Cas admitted, like the words were being pulled out of him slowly, and by force. “I wanted to tell you. I came to see you several times.”

“Why didn’t you -”

Cas swallowed. “I couldn’t. You were being a father, a lover, a normal person. You raked the lawn.”

“I -” Dean blinked furiously, as Cas continued not to look at him. “How much of this did you watch?”

“Enough.”

“Yeah? Well clearly not,” Dean said, suddenly furious. “Because I was happy – sometimes, but other days I wasn’t. Other days I was a mess, I was -” He breathed in. “I never would have not wanted to talk to you. Not when you needed it. And when it comes to Lisa… Well, I think it’s great that she found someone. I really do. Because I don’t know if I believe in people getting just one ‘love of their life’ or whatever. It just seems creepy, cupid-ish.”

“I suppose I can understand -”

“But if the world is rigged up like that and I only get one person,” Dean pushed on, not sure he had the courage to finish his sentence, “then she wasn’t it.”

“Oh,” Cas said politely, and then he kept looking at Dean. “ _Oh_.”

The car door opened without either of them noticed Sam approaching.

“Right, so I think I got everything,” Sam announced, as he got back into the back seat. Which was an odd arrangement, now Dean came to think on it.

“Great,” Dean said tearing his eyes away from Cas with a shaky smile as he started the car. He felt… lighter, somehow. It was a good feeling.

“So… home?”

Dean nodded, and allowed Cas’s hand to rest on his leg when he felt it there. “Home.”

*


End file.
